It Takes One To Know One
by Lilskilledit
Summary: There had always been something wrong with Mycroft Holmes. He had trouble feeling things, emotions. He knew glee, but not happiness. He knew people and how they thought, but not how they felt. After all, caring is not an advantage. (I basically suck at summarizing, mycroftxOC, maybe a little SherlockxOC. Dark themes, adult jokes, cats and maybe some making out in later chapters)
1. Prologue

**A/N : So here's the first chapter :) Took me a couple of hours to type it out even though its pretty short. Basically written a bit like a novel, so it may be a little slow paced. If you're in for a quick fix, I wouldn't recommend reading this.**

**Our story begins a little before season three, but catches up by the end of this..prologue(? I guess we could call it that) This one is pretty short, but I had to start somewhere, so here goes nothing.**

**Any reviews, follows, favs, whatever, even flames would be appreciated, and I should probably have the next chapter up in a day or so ^-^**

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"You know, I never imagined I'd be seeing you here again, in London; it never really seemed like your kind of a city", the man said, looking at the woman sitting in front of him. She laughed, sipping her coffee, "I'm only here for college John, and I'll probably be leaving once I have my degree anyways. This isn't permanent."

He looked at her curiously, "That's only about four years though. Why not stay here and get a job? She looked amused," Because all the tea they drink here upsets me." John laughed at that, "No, but seriously, why not stay here permanently?" "Well, besides the tea," she paused for a second," one of the problems may be that it's just too difficult to find a decently priced house in a good location."

He looked at her critically before making his decision. She would do. "Well, if it's a place to stay that you want, I know a few people here and there."

John had introduced her to an elderly woman – Mrs Hudson. She was in her late fifties or early sixties, and had a flat to rent out. The location was great – central London, affording her the connectivity she needed to live her college life. It wasn't too quiet a place, but it was cosy so she could study there. At the end of the week, Cecelia had moved in.

The flat had already been furnished; a couple of couches, a lot of books, two beds and other things, and to top it off, a skull. She had liked the place; it was dusty, but homely, and the landlady was a dear. Mrs Hudson had been shocked to see John; she had pulled him to a corner for a conversation. Cecelia had given them their space, but the flat was small, and she couldn't help but hear bits and pieces of their exchange. It had been hilarious to a certain extent, with John proclaiming his heterosexuality, but there had been a slightly grim undertone- something about another man, but she couldn't hear all of it.

All of that, however, had happened over a month ago and by now she had settled in quite nicely. She had had to clean up quite a bit when she had moved in, but was ready to call the place home now. She sighed, it was almost one-thirty in the morning now, and she had to wake up early for college. She looked down at her textbook – trying to become a criminal lawyer was difficult, almost painful because of the amount one has to read, but she had decided she would become one, so she would. She had to.

Cecelia was already in bed when she heard the door to the flat open. _That's funny, I can swear I locked the door. _She got up quietly, but quickly, textbook in hand. Most of her textbooks were hefty enough to be used as weaponry. The flat was dark, but some light streamed through the curtains on the window.

She could see the faint outline of a man, looking out the window at Baker Street. She crept up behind him, ready to swing her book at his head, when he spoke. "You know, a book isn't the best choice when it comes to weapons." His voice was cold, factual, _irritating. "_Who are you and what are you doing in my house." She didn't question him, she simply demanded an answer. "You mean flat." His voice was light, almost conversational now, but retained a certain amount of ice. "Who are you?"

The man turned around quickly and she almost hit him. He wore a long coat which lent him an air of…mystery. He smiled wanly. "I, Miss Gelson, am the previous tenant of 221B Baker Street, and my name is Sherlock Holmes."

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**Well, yes a bit of a cliffhanger, and a rather obvious address, but oh well. There's a lot more bound to happen, and a few plot twists of course, so if this seems a little slow, please bear with me :D**

**~Lils**


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: Yay the first chapters here! Took me a while to get the dialogues considering its a little too easy to get Sherlock OOC. **

**Well, this happens after Sherlock's told everyone who matters that he's back by the way, just in case anyone was wondering. **

**(And to all you chaps who put this on alert, thanks a LOT, it helps me continue writing)**

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"Sher-what?" Cecelia looked at him, confused. The man made an irritated noise, "_My name, is Sherlock Holmes."_ He said, his voice giving away every ounce of irritation and frustration he felt towards the woman. _He thinks I'm an idiot._ "Well, it's been a pleasure to meet you Mr Holmes, now if you could just show yourself out of my flat-" He cut her off," I believe you didn't hear me properly the second time Miss Gelson, I am _Sherlock Holmes_" He paused for dramatic effect, and was let down when there was no sign of recognition from the other party. Now it was Cecelia's turn to get annoyed, "Do I really look like I care about who you are?" "Well, you did ask." His tone was factual, _irritating. _

"I may have asked, and now I'm asking you to leave my house before I call the police." He looked amused in the half light," I know the Detective Inspector on a personal basis, so that wouldn't be very useful now would it." Something inside her snapped. Law book in hand, she hit the man on the head. Repeatedly.

The man, or Mr Holmes as he claimed himself to be, tried to push her off, but passed out after the fifth blow, after which Cecelia proceeded to tie him up with a bit of rope she had lying around. Once he was secured in place, she went downstairs and woke Mrs Hudson up to inform her about the intruder.

"So you're telling me that you know this man?" She gestured at the mildly annoyed looking man sitting on the other couch. "Well yes dear, he was the previous tenant, I told you so. You must have heard about him on the news a few years ago, yes?" Mr Holmes spoke, "Mrs Hudson, of course she wouldn't know about me, she's American." Cecelia looked at the man, still annoyed, "I may have lived there Mr Holmes, but that doesn't mean I _am _one of them." "A matter dependant completely on perspective." The man was crazy.

"Well Mr Holmes, it was great meeting you. Now if you could just leave so that I can go back to sleep" She stood up to usher him out of her flat. "And before you remind me who you are again, I already know."

"I'd love to leave Miss Gelson, but I'm afraid I'm staying here." He didn't even ask for permission. _The nerve._ "No you're not. Get up and get out." Mrs Hudson tried to interrupt, "I'm sure we can settle all of this-""I lived here before you did and almost all of the furniture is mine. I'm staying." Point noted.

"While you may have lived here earlier, Mr Holmes, you did leave. Thus, all of your belongings now belong to the landlady, or the next tenant. All property left behind and not claimed is passed on. If you wanted to get all of your things back, you may have contacted Mrs Hudson within six months of having terminated your tenancy." She smiled at him, confident that she had won this argument. It pays to be a lawyer sometimes.

"That would have held true, Miss Gelson, if I had not _terminated_ my tenancy by dying."

It took her a moment to comprehend what he had said. "By…_dying?"_

He looked at her as if she was an idiot. "Yes, by _dying._" In the moment of silence that followed, she realised she didn't really have much ground. _If Mrs Hudson knew him, and trusted him, that will have to be enough for the moment._

"Fine Mr Holmes, you can stay" He looked pleased with himself, "Of course I can, it's my flat," She shot him a dirty look, but he continued anyways, "Now if you could just vacate my couch, it would be perfect." "And if you could stop being such an arrogant sod, that would be great too" She smiled at him coldly, but he just rolled his eyes. "Well, that was enough chit chat for tonight. Now I'm going to bed. Goodnight Mrs Hudson, Mr Holmes." Mrs Hudson wished them a good night too before leaving. Only once the door was shut firmly behind her did Cecelia ask her new flatmate how he had 'died'.  
"I thought you were going to go to sleep." He didn't even look at her when he answered. He was too busy observing the flat.  
"I may have wanted a few answers first."  
"Well, I obviously didn't die. My death was faked."  
"Okay, and why did you have to that?"  
"Why don't you just Google my name sometime?"  
"Why don't you just answer my questions so that I can go back to sleep?"  
"Mainly because I find it mundane and annoying."  
"Well, I think you're annoying." She paused, "But you _are_ my flatmate so we might as well get to know each other a little bit. What's your job?"  
"I'm a consulting detective."  
"A what?"  
"You really are as stupid as you look aren't you."  
She shot him a look, "Don't look at me like that, almost everyone is. I invented the job. When people can't solve their crimes, they come to me."  
"A consulting detective. So why did you have to fake your own death?"  
"Personal reasons."  
"Of course."

She paused a second before getting up, "Well, I have to go sleep. If you have any questions, feel free to ask me tomorrow when I'm back from college."She walked away, but paused before leaving the room, "Goodnight Mr Holmes" "Call me Sherlock" She shot him another look, "Nope" No way she was calling that pompous ass by his first name. "Suit yourself.", he sounded amused. _The annoying crud._

She had only been in bed for about two minutes when the door to her bedroom opened, 'What do you want now?"  
Sherlock let out a sigh of frustration, "I want my bedroom back."  
"You were dead for two years, come to terms with it."  
He didn't say anything, just got into the other side of the bed.  
"The hell do you think you're doing?"  
"Going to sleep in my bed"  
Cecelia made a noise of frustration and went back to trying to get some sleep.  
"I hope you die a painful death Mr Holmes."  
"Go to sleep Cecelia"  
"Go die."  
"Already have."  
"Goodnight Sherlock."  
"I thought you didn't want to call me by my first name."  
"_Goodnight Sherlock."_

The bed shook slightly as he laughed.

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**Soo, that was it for our _first _chapter. What do you guys think? R&R please? (Pretty please? It makes me feel good about life)**

**If I'm going OOC anywhere, PLEASE TELL ME. I find OOC Sherlock quite annoying, but its difficult to keep him in character, so yeah.**

**~Lils.**


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: So this one's pretty short, almost a filler in a way bu oh well, I've been a bit busy. **

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Cecelia woke up to the sound of a buzzer going off the next morning. She checked her clock, sleep deprived or not, she had managed to wake up on time. She could hear voices outside, men talking in the living room. Still in her night clothes, she left her room and stood in the shadows of the hallway, observing the men in her living room.

One was obviously Sherlock, she could tell it was him because of his hair. The other man, however, was unknown to her. He was speaking. "Oh yes, _friends_. Of course, you'd go in for that kind of thing now." His tone was sarcastic, almost suggestive.  
"And you don't? Ever?" She could hear the curiosity in Sherlock's voice.  
"If you seem slow to me, Sherlock, can you imagine what real people are like? I'm living in a world of goldfish." The other man's tone was almost factual as he said it.  
"Yes, but I've been away for two years." Sherlock paused.  
"So?"  
"I don't know, I thought perhaps you might have found yourself a…" He paused, looking for a word, "_goldfish_".  
"Change the subject." The man's tone was defensive.

Cecelia decided it was time she made her presence known and stepped out of the shadows. Sherlock spoke without even looking at her, "Finally decided to stop spying on us Cecelia?" _The crud knew!_

She went on the defensive," It's my house, I can do whatever a want." Sherlock looked mildly amused," You mean _our_ house. We _are_ flatmates now, as you so pointed out. And flatmates shouldn't spy on each other, now should they?" _Time to change the subject._ "Zark off. You've not even been here for twenty four hours and you're bringing your friends over."  
"Can't I?"  
"At eight in the morning? I don't think so."  
The other man was gazing at her intently. "What is it old man? Never seen legs?"  
"Of course he hasn't" Sherlock muttered.  
She decided to deal with the matter later and stepped into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee.  
Sherlock's friend spoke. "Speaking of goldfish, you seem to have found one for yourself. Giving up your celibacy, brother?" _He has a brother?  
_Either they didn't know she could hear them, or they simply didn't care. She suspected it was the latter.

Now it was Sherlock's turn to become defensive, "I don't know what you're talking about."  
His brother was amused," Oh don't you Sherlock? She just walked out of your _bedroom. _Dressed like _that._"

Cecelia looked down at her clothes. She was wearing an overly large T-shirt that almost reached her knees and underwear. It was clear how he had come to the conclusion. "Hey, I have better taste than that." She interrupted them. They ignored her.

There was silence outside, so she walked out with her mug of coffee, only to see the two of them eyeballing each other. _Oh well._  
She spoke to the older man," So who are you anyway?"  
He looked at her and smiled, _almost __coldly_. "Mycroft Holmes. And I believe you must be Miss Gelson?"  
She raised an eyebrow at him. Or tried to anyway, "Mycroft Holmes? I've heard that name somewhere." She looked down at her coffee, frowning. The name rang a bell.  
Sherlock spoke," Of course you have, he runs the British government."  
"Oh, you're that chap." She paused for a second," My father told me about you once; pompous ass of the highest order." She gave him a half apologetic, half amused look. He just sat there, his face a perfect mask.  
"Well, he wasn't exactly _wrong_." Sherlock said. _Sibling rivalry? This was hilarious._  
Cecelia left the room to go take a shower before she burst out laughing. She could hear the men's voices when she was back in her room, picking up her towel, but couldn't make out the words.

By the time she was ready to leave, the elder Holmes had left. It was only then that she noticed what Sherlock had done to the wall. "Sherlock." Her voice was cold.  
"Yes?" He answered in a distracted manner.  
"_Why is there a map on the wall."_

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**And that was it. Hope you guys liked it ^-^**

**~Lils.**


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